


Christmas Trains

by RunWithWolves



Series: Tidbits and Timbits [1]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Christmas, F/F, fluff bucket, wooden train
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 20:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5553449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunWithWolves/pseuds/RunWithWolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura's got the best part time job working as an elf making toy trains in a replica of Santa's workshop. Or it would be the best part time job if she could actually successfully make a toy train. And if she hadn't been stuck with Carmilla, a ridiculous grinch of a partner who refuses to even pick up a piece of wood. Or wear her elf hat. Or interact with children.  </p><p>Still, Laura refuses to be defeated by tiny toy trains and she's certainly not about to let Carmilla cramp her Christmas spirit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Trains

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to my secret Santee, multimark. My gift to you. It's been a pleasure. 
> 
> I've tried really hard to make it a oneshot and I think it does wrap up fairly nicely but we didn't actually get to the emotional two-punch later in so maybe I'll come back and add the chapter 2 later. ;)

Laura slammed her work locker closed and stared down at the little wooden train in her hands. Or at least what was supposed to be a little wooden train. Engine to be precise. Right now it was just a block of wood. But it would be a train. One day. Assuming she could ever get this.

The supervisor had made it sound so simple, crafting the tiny engine with a few quick strokes in barely forty five minutes. She groaned and let her head fall against the locker, she probably should have paid a tad more attention but she’d just been excited that she wasn’t working with the jack-in-a-boxes this year. The terrifying jack-in-a-boxes. She’d figured it would be easy.

Now she was getting defeated by a bunch of trains. 

Or more accurately, blocks of wood that refused to turn into anything even vaguely resembling a train. 

Tugging her elf hat from her back pocket, Laura slid it on her head. Perking up slightly as each step sent the sound of jingle bells ringing. 

At least Betty was just as bad at making the trains as she was. 

Between them, she’d be surprised if they managed to make one decent engine in the entire month of December. 

That didn’t mean she didn’t love her job. Because she did. It was literally the world’s best part time job. Ever. Period. How many people got to say they spent their time working as one of Santa’s elves making toys?

Laura did. 

So despite the epic failure of a trains, she skipped into the workshop. There was no way that anyone couldn’t be cheerful with the explosion of Christmas around her. Wooden work benches and giant candy canes and fake snow and a rustling fireplace full of students dressed up in elf costumes in vibrant shades. 

She’d gotten green this year. Big buttons down her tunic. Candy cane tights. 

Laura wove her way through the benches, spying Perry’s yellow where she was already tinkering with the ovens and Laf’s blue suit by the robots. After Laf had managed to blow-up their workstation last year, they’d been relegated to jack-in-the-boxes with Laura. Perry supplying cookies whenever she passed by with baskets for the kids. 

Because that’s what it was all about, a charity organization’s attempt to make a real Santa’s workshop for underprivileged kids to visit. All funded by Karnstein Enterprises. Some of the other workers grumbled about how it was all a press thing but every time Laura saw one of the kid’s faces light up, she really didn’t care why it was happening. 

Just that it was. 

She couldn’t wait for them to start showing up. The workshop wasn’t open to the public at first, giving the ‘elves’ a chance to learn their temporary trades. All toys getting donated at the end of it all. Robots, dolls, and everything else. Including the trains. 

Assuming they successfully made any trains.

Laura dropped onto her wooden stool, surprised that Betty wasn’t already sitting across from her. Shrugging, Laura tucked the unfinished train in her large elf pocket and grabbed a fresh chunk of wood. 

Perhaps a clean slate would help. 

It didn’t. 

An hour later she had a deformed train for her trouble and no Betty to console her with equally terrible train cars to accompany them. Still Laura persisted, gluing the wood to the tiny wheel mechanism just like they’d been instructed. She had to come up with something. Even if it was more of a hacked at piece of wood than a train. 

She would not be defeated by a train. 

She was just gluing the last axle in place when someone plopped down on the stool across from her, jarring the table and making the wheels go on crooked. 

“Careful Bets!” Laura said, prodding the axle to try and realign it, “this was literally the least terrible one yet.”

“Well, if that’s your best it explains why I was forced to sit through an excruciatingly dull whittling tutorial.” a new voice said.

Laura’s head flew up. There was a girl sitting across from her who definitely wasn’t Betty. Dark hair to Betty’s blonde, scowl to Betty’s smile, and a seductive vibe that Laura hadn’t seen on anyone else. Ever.

And she managed to do it while wearing a bright red elf costume. 

No hat though. Which was definitely against dress code. 

“Who the hell are you?” Laura asked. 

“Carmilla,” the girl leaned forward on the table, “I’m your new partner, sweetheart.”

Laura put the train down, “I have a partner.”

“Well don’t you catch on fast,” Carmilla avoided looking at her, choosing instead to pick at a loose thread on her sleeve. Starting to unravel the costume. 

“No, I mean, I already have a partner. Betty.” Laura said, “we make the trains.” To emphasize her point, she picked up the new train engine and waved it. 

Carmilla’s gaze flicked up, narrowing in on the train. A snort burst from her lips, “That’s not a train.”

“Yes.” Laura insisted, “Yes it is. I mean, I know it’s not the best train but I can get better. Betty and I were working on it together. We had a plan. I had a plan and making trains was a key part of it so that’s definitely a train.”

“That,” Carmilla clarified, “is a block of misshapen wood that looks like someone came at it with a hacksaw.”

Laura fought the flinch, glancing down at the second train hidden in her pocket before rounding on Carmilla, “I don’t know who you think you are but you can’t just barge in here and take Betty’s spot. There are rules. You weren’t even at orientation. Train making isn’t exactly easy and we’ve been trying all week and this,” Laura pointed to the train again, “is the best we’ve done. The kids come in like a day. You can’t just wing this stuff and wrestle your way in. That’s got to be against policy or something. You can’t just show up. I’ll call the supervisor. He’ll know what’s going on”

Carmilla was still only interested in her sleeve, the fluff unwinding as she picked at it, “Go for it.”

“Don’t think I won’t.” Laura said. 

She stared at Carmilla, giving her new partner the best evil squint glare she could muster. It was Christmas for Pete’s sake. Christmas was supposed to be the time for miracles and good things and everything turning out okay. 

Not rude strangers. 

Exactly three minutes later and Carmilla seemed unaffected by the Hollis stare, still picking at her sleeve, “At least try and make a train!” Laura said.

Finally Carmilla looked back up, “What?”

“If you’re going to sit there. You could at least try and make a train. I wasn’t kidding when I said that it’s not easy. I still can’t make one right and I’ve been trying all week and it’s actually important to me that I learn how to do this. Plus they’re for the kids. So fail at making a train or get out.”

Carmilla sighed but didn’t reach for the wood, “Look. They replaced your friend. Moved her to shipping or something. So like it or not. I’m stuck here until this infernal holiday experience is over.”

The workshop bustled around them, apparently oblivious to Laura’s December taking a turn for the unexpected, “They replaced Betty?” the word burst from her, “Why?”

A smirk flirted with Carmilla’s face. Instead of replying, she reached across the table using her whole body to get right in Laura’s space then pausing with her face hovering right in front of Laura’s. Laura blinked. Hard. Dragging her eyes from Carmilla’s lips to meet her eyes. Hoping she hadn’t noticed. 

The self satisfied smirk was not supporting that hope. 

Then the newest train popped up between them, “Cupcake, this is not a train. They can’t have two hopelessly inept train makers” Carmilla said, “thus, the removal of dear old Betty.”

Laura’s hand went to her pocket, enclosing the barely carved wooden train in her fist, “I can make trains!”

Carmilla leaned back, “tell you what. You make a proper train and I’ll get out of your hair. Until then…”

Carmilla went back to picking at her sleeve. 

Laura fought the impulse to strangle the air. There was no time. She had trains to make and double the incentive to do so quickly.The hunk of wood in her pocket and the removal of the partner from hell. 

#

The kids had started showing up and it was officially day 3 of the incursion of the partner from hell. Carmilla, despite Laura’s best efforts, was still present. It certainly wasn’t from lack of trying, Laura had an entire stack of trains in the bin next to her. Just. They weren’t particularly good trains. 

Vaguely train-shaped with extra cuts and slips of the thumb. Twisted axles and missing smoke stacks. 

Carmilla said nothing but Laura could practically feel the mocking rolling off her in waves. Every time Laura accidentally gouged the wood. Every time she broke a wheel. Every time she accidently went against the grain. 

She even caught her once. Laura had been so focused, the train in her hands actually turning out passable and her tongue sticking out from her mouth as she focused. 

Something. Some unknowable something had her looking up.

Carmilla was smiling. Or maybe smirking. Laura still wasn’t sure. But it was probably a smirk. A smirk of pure derision. Regardless, there was a small upturn of Carmilla’s lips as she stared at Laura, fingers still as the unravelled string lay between them. 

Then Laura’s hand slipped and she knocked off the steam dome. 

She’d tried asking Laf for help seeing as they could make basically anything. They’d been eager to help, hooking up the block of wood to the robot machine and making a few ‘minor calculations’. 

It had only blown up a little bit. 

Which frankly was an improvement on last year. 

She’d scurried back to the train table and gotten a, “Well cutie, only you could pull off the singed elf looked.” Carmilla still hadn’t picked up a piece of wood, the cuff on her left wrist now very unraveled. 

Laura had scowled at Carmilla and grabbed another block of wood. Subtly trying to rub the ash from the incinerated train off her face. 

She’d then turned to Perry. While Perry had been sympathetic, her advice to start again from the beginning hadn’t been particularly helpful. After 45 minutes leafing through the huge woodworking manual, Laura’s next train hadn’t been any better. 

In fact it had been worse.

Laura had glared at it, chucking it in the discard pile.

Carmilla’s comment that her bunched up nose was hilarious, didn’t help anything. 

In fact, it seemed as though the only thing Carmilla did besides destroy her elf costume was make snarky comments to Laura. Even when Laura had tried to escape, moving to the other side of the building to try and get advice from Danny over in packaging, Carmilla had appeared. Skulking through the aisles, to grab who knows what. 

She hadn’t said anything at the time but when Laura finally made her way back to the bench, a split in half train in her hands from Danny trying a tad too hard to help. Carmilla’s laugh had been hard. 

Dry. Empty. 

Nothing like Christmas. 

Laura lost it, “What. Is. Your. Problem!” she shouted, “Like seriously. Are you actually Scrooge and you’ve got some fiendish plot to ruin Christmas because otherwise I can’t see why you’re here. Working in a literal Christmas factory. As an elf.” Laura was standing now, pointing at her own costume. “Because this is Christmas and it’s supposed to be about good tidings and happy feelings and family and working together and helping each other. So why are you here? Fine. Don’t like Christmas. Be miserable and alone. But don’t go dragging everybody else down with your lack of Christmas spirit.”

For the briefest moment there was silence then Carmilla was somehow around the workbench. Standing right across from Laura. 

More fire in her eyes than she’d displayed cumulatively in the past three days. 

“Christmas spirit?” Carmilla said, “Really. You really think that Christmas spirit actually exists? And what, that you’ll find it here. Have you really made anything better since you started working here? No. Christmas is all about being miserable and alone but pretending you’re not. Putting up a fake tree and lights so that the foyer looks good for any guests who come by. I’m just the only whose honest about it. You’re a child if you believe in Christmas spirit. It doesn’t exist. Or if it does, it doesn’t come to people like -”

Laura frowned as Carmilla cut herself off. The anger in Carmilla’s eyes temporarily overwhelmed by something that seemed more broken than angry. 

Then the fire came back as Carmilla continued, “You know what? Forget it. You think Christmas is about family. It’s not. It’s commercial. Christmas spirit doesn’t exist and the sooner you stop trying to play Santa’s elf and drop the trains, the better off you’ll be.”

After pausing to make sure that Laura had gotten her point, Carmilla turned and made her way back around the table. 

Slowly Laura sat back on her stool, picking up the tools in front of her and making a single cut in the half formed train before her. Then she put them down again, watching as Carmilla sat. Laura slowly put a single hand on the unformed train resting in her pocket. 

“No.” Laura said. Carmilla’s head popped up as Laura continued, “No. Maybe you’re right. Maybe Christmas spirit is all in our heads and maybe we are alone but that doesn’t mean it’s fake. Being kind to people and making them smile is still important and real. And I want to live in a world where people act like Christmas spirit is real, because that’s what we deserve. Kindness and goodness and,” her voice wavered slightly on the next word, “to be remembered by our family. So I’m going to keep having Christmas spirit and trying to make these trains. Because the kids who get them deserve Christmas spirit. I deserve it. Heck,” Laura said, “even you deserve it.”

Then, without a second look at her miserable partner, Laura picked up the train again and started carving.

And even when her hand slipped again to gouge the wood, she kept right on going. 

#

When Laura came into work the next morning, the stack of wood for the day’s trains was already ready and waiting for her. Laura hummed happily, picking up one of the blocks to examine it. Danny must have gotten in early and decided to help out. 

She couldn’t always reach the highest shelves. 

However, this wood was a slightly different hardness from what she had been using previously and for a moment Laura wondered if there had been a mix-up of some kind. The wood she usually used was much more brown, this was a light cream colour.

“It’s easier to carve,” Laura almost dropped the block as Carmilla’s voice hit her.

She looked over to find her perpetually late partner slumping on her stool. 

Early. 

Carmilla immediately started picking at her sleeve, ignoring the set of pristine tools still waiting for her. “It’s basswood. The grain is fine and the wood is more forgiving to beginners.”

“Oh,” Laura said, a grin spreading over her face as she took her seat, “Well, that was thoughtful.” She bent down over the wood before looking up again, “I don’t suppose, since we’ve got this new awesome wood and all, that you’d actually start carving today?”

“Don’t hold your breath cupcake.” Carmilla said. 

Laura frowned and got down to work

Danny stopped by that afternoon to see how her trains were coming. The answer was not well. 

But better. 

She grinned up at Danny, ignoring Carmilla’s gagging noises, and shoved the train under Danny’s nose, “So much better. Look. I’ve got the actual engine shape this time. It’s actually round. Not, like, vaguely sloped. Actually round.” She was practically bouncing in her seat. Carmilla could mock all she wanted.

“That’s great Hollis,” Danny said, “Good to see a smile back on the living embodiment of Christmas spirit.”

“Christmas tree flirting with a tiny Christmas elf,” Carmilla interrupted, “how nauseating.” 

“Well it’s all thanks to you!” Laura said, ignoring her, “I mean, this wood makes it so much easier. How did you know what kind to get when you brought it over for me this morning? Which, by the way, thank you so much. I mean, I can totally do it myself but last time I was climbing up the shelves and it was a little unsteady…”

 

She trailed off at Danny’s confused look, “You did bring the wood, didn’t you?”

“Well I was going to,” Danny admitted, “after you basically fell off yesterday. But when I brought your normal wood over, this was already here so I just figured I missed you. Must have been Kirsch. He was saying something about trying to get on your good side.”

Laura nodded, not entirely focused for the rest of the conversation. Instead, her attention was locked on her partner. Her snarky partner. 

Who was early this morning. 

And knew what kind of wood it was. 

#

Now that she was paying attention, Laura could feel Carmilla actively pretending to not be watching her work. Carmilla’s eyes would jump back to the string on her wrist every time Laura looked up but the second she looked back at her train, she could feel them return. 

Like two ends of a rubber band. One goes up, the other goes down.

She just couldn’t figure out why. Which was so annoying. 

And bad for her concentration. 

But she persisted, going through train after train after train. She thought she’d pretty much mastered rounding out the engine compartment but there was still a long way to go. The wheels. the smoke stack. The conductor booth. Little embellishes if possible. 

Train in her pocket weighing heavier than the tiny amount of wood would indicate. 

She hadn’t realized she was sighing until Carmilla’s voice cut through her fog of trains, “If you dislike it that much cupcake, why don’t you ask for a transfer?”

Laura looked over, considering her options. Then she shrugged, figuring that Carmilla wouldn’t care about the whole story, “I asked for trains.” she said.

For the first time that day, their eyes almost met as Carmilla’s gaze roamed her face. Frowning but not with malice. Something more like confusion on her face as her fingers started moving again, pulling on the loose thread but keeping her gaze on Laura. 

“Why are you here if you don’t even like Christmas?” Laura asked.

“My mother made me.” Carmilla said immediately. 

Then there was a pause and just as Laura was turning back to her train, Carmilla’s words softly drifted by over the noise of the workshop, “And it’s better than being at home.”

Laura’s head popped up but Carmilla’s stay down, eyes firmly on her sleeve as though she’d never spoken. So Laura reached down, picked up one of the least offensive trains from the box beside her, and gave it a gentle push across the table. 

The ritchey wheels just barely making the journey as it bumped into Carmilla’s arm. 

But it still bumped.

And when Carmilla looked up, all guarded eyes, Laura finally met them with the softest smile she could find. Shaking her head lightly to send the bell on the end of her hat jingling.

Carmilla held the gaze. Smile poking at her lips.

#

“ARGGH!” Laura said, letting her forehead drop onto the table. Just missing the sad looking train in front of her. 

Carmilla looked over, “Careful, might lose your Christmas spirit.”

“Maybe you’ll find it,” Laura said, “along with your hat.”

“Ah, but haven’t you heard? It’s the annoying jingle bell on the end of the elf hats that keep workers infused with holiday joy.” Carmilla said. 

With her face planted into the table, it was safe to let the smile out, “then I will wrestle one onto your head if it kills me.” 

“Then who would make the trains?”

Carmilla’s question had Laura groaning into the table. Face down and nose squished rather than look at the train in front of her. This had not been part of the plan. This was supposed to practice. Easy practice. Not a sheer exercise in torture and futility. 

She shuffled slightly, intent on slowly slamming her forehead against the table. However, the action caused her torso to shift and the sharp corner of the unfinished train in her pocket poked her in the stomach. 

Gently. Softly. Persistently. 

A reminder. 

So Laura raised her head and reached out for the train she’d just dropped. Maybe she could salvage it. The wheels definitely wouldn’t go on straight but she might be able to save the smokestack. 

Her hands hit nothing but air. When she looked up, Carmilla had her train in hand and was running a finger over the ridges. 

“I know it’s terrible,” Laura said, “so just give it back. I don’t need any unhelpful comments from the peanut gallery.”

But Carmilla didn’t return the train, leaving Laura’s hand dangling empty as Carmilla ran a critical gaze over the train.

“it’s not terrible,” Carmilla said at last and Laura’s eyes widened. Carmilla wasn’t even looking at her, still looking down at the train, “It’s not exactly good either but there’s a certain sense of potential here.”

Laura couldn’t help it, her eyes started watering. 

“It’s not a train but it could be.” Carmilla finished, “you just clearly have no idea what you’re doing.”

Laura sniffed and Carmilla finally looked up. Laura watched behind watery eyes as panic flared across Carmilla’s face and she dropped the train like it was suddenly hot. 

“Sorry,” Laura said, laughing awkwardly to try and diffuse the tension, “I just. Well. I really want to make trains and you’re the first person to tell me that maybe I could.”

Carmilla reached out and slowly put the train back on its wheels, the same gaze that had been studying the train now jumping to Laura. Brow knotted. Fingers still. 

Laura squirmed under the gaze and just kept talking, “Because I didn’t think it would really be that hard. I mean, I knew people who made wooden stuff when I was a kid. They made it look so easy so I just thought that it would be something that I could do but then I came here and it was so hard. I figured it would get easier but it didn’t and you said I couldn’t make trains and Danny said I should try something else. And I was actually starting to think about it because this is impossible and if I can’t make trains and you’re not going to make trains then I should stop because then no-one gets trains.”

There was a bustle in the room and Laura turned to face it, taking the distraction as a chance to let her red face cool down. 

She smiled at the group of children entering. Eyes wide as they took in Santa’s workshop for themselves. She hadn’t seen as much of the kids this year as she usually did. Between Carmilla’s attitude and the poor train skills, the supervisor had suggested that the kids view train-making from a distance only.

“Why, of all things, do you feel so passionate about trains?” Carmilla apparently wasn’t going to let the topic drop. 

Laura sighed and turned back, “Because they’re Christmas.”

Carmilla raised an eyebrow, “You’re sentimental about those annoying electric beasts that shriek at strange hours of the night and take up half the foyer as a display of power?”

“What? No.” Laura said. She looked at Carmilla more intentionally. The lack of a jingle bell hat, the unraveled sleeve, the guarded eyes. 

“No,” Laura repeated, “No. Actual wooden trains like these ones are Christmas. We had a handmade one at home and we’d set it up underneath the tree every year and when the presents appeared magically on Christmas morning it would wind between them.” 

She smiled at the memory and continued, “It didn’t have any electricity so you’d have to pull or push it and sometimes wrapping paper would fall on the track and my mom and I would have to navigate the obstacles and then my Dad would bring hot chocolate and we’d all take turns driving the train. There was an engine and three cars and a caboose and my dad would pretend to be the conductor and you could put cookies in the cars and I’d be the delivery service.”

When she came back from her memory, Carmilla was still watching her. Smirk gone. Eyes almost soft.

“So basically that’s why I want everyone to have a train,” Laura said, “because they’re Christmas.”

“That’s sickenly sentimental of you, cupcake,” Carmilla said. The sarcasm was there but the words don’t quite have the punch that Laura had been expecting. So, she grinned and shook her head to make the bell jingle.

“All part of the Laura Hollis package!” Laura said. 

As soon as Carmilla smirked, Laura knew that she’d set herself up for Carmilla’s words, “If you’re a package, does that mean I get to unwrap you?”

Laura’s cheeks flamed red and her hands dove into her pockets as her head ducked down. 

“Little nerd hottie!” Kirsch saved her. The large boy in a green elf costume that matched Lara’s but was double the size bounded over to their table, panic in his eyes, “We need your help. Scary hottie too. You’ve gotta help a bro out.”

“Fat chance beefcake” Carmilla said.

Laura’s reply was simultaneously, “What’s wrong?”

“Well SJ and I, you know, we’re taking the kids on the tours right?” Kirsch said, “And there are these kids and they wanted to know why SJ and I were so big and not elf sized and we tried to distract him just like the handbook says but it totally didn’t work, bro. Like this kid would not let go. So we had to tell him that we’re humans helping with the tours and now he wants to meet real elves and you two totally have to help me out.”

Laura blinked, “You want us to be actual elves?”

“You’re the shortest one here bro!” Kirsch said as Carmilla snickered. Laura frowned, she wasn’t that short. Like yes, she was short. But not elf level short. Still Kirsch pressed on, “and D-Bear said that you’re all about Christmas spirit so I figured you could totally do it.”

“he’s got you there,” Carmilla muttered, hands still on the train. Revolving it over and over in her hands. 

Laura whipped her head towards Carmilla, “You are like one inch taller than me.”

“You’re both elf sized!” Kirsch said, “that’s why it’s perfect! Come on bro, say you’ll do it.”

“Count me out.” Carmilla said.

Laura shot her a look then lifted her chin, “Sure Kirsch, I’ll try.”

His grin was wide as his hand came down to muss up her hat, “You’re the best lil Laura.” Then he grabbed her by the wrist, “Come on!”

Laura was yanked forward before she really had a chance to get her feet under her, stumbling after Kirsch. As they approached the small group, the kids were crowded around a frazzled looking SJ. Her face rose as she saw Kirsch and Laura return.

“Hey kiddies!” Kirsch said, “So as promised, this is one of our elves. Laura. Say hi, guys.”

Seven pairs of tiny eyes rounded on Laura. For a moment butterflies sprang to life in her stomach then she took a deep breath, acquired the biggest grin she could muster, and let the words fly. 

Minutes later, they were eating out of her hand. Almost. Six pairs of wide eyes and one pair of suspicious stares.

Laura lead them through the workshop, skipping with every step and letting her hands flail as she pointed out candy canes and demonstrated how robots walk and told an intricate story about the birth of Santa’s most recent reindeer, Lophii. Apparently it was a harrowing birth experience and baby reindeer love to eat peppers and could fly moments out of the womb and Laura was, quite frankly, impressed with herself. 

“What do you do?” one of the kids asked.

For the first time, Laura hesitated, “I help make trains.”

She shouldn’t have hesitated, kids can sense fear. The one suspicious kid finally spoke up, “Can we see?”

“Um…” Laura said, trying to think of a reason why they couldn’t. 

“Of course you can little dude,” Kirsch piped in and Laura fought the urge to facepalm. Regardless, she began taking the winding path through the tables that would take her back to her workstation and the sad excuses for trains that decorated it. 

That would take her back to Carmilla. 

She just prayed Carmilla wouldn’t say anything to actively destroy the idea of Santa Claus. Krampus really wasn’t what they were going for here.

But when she got in sight of the table, all prayers were whisked straight from her head as she pulled up in shock. There was Carmilla, tools in hand, and Laura’s train in front of her. Except it didn’t even look like Laura’s train. Her wobbly round engine was replaced with a smooth surface, smokestack already in place. The simple train looking exactly what the instructor had tried to show her on her first day. 

The tools glided smoothly under Carmilla’s hand as she stared down at the train, working on hollowing out a small space for the imaginary conductor as though the world around her didn’t exist. The train literally taking form under her fingertips as though it was always meant to be there. Carmilla’s brow furrowed as she worked but her face was somehow peaceful as she moved without hesitation. 

Unlike Laura, who hadn’t moved since she’d caught sight of her partner. 

She was actually making trains. 

The kids had no such qualms. They burst forward and immediately surrounded Carmilla, pressing in close and chattering over each other. 

Carmilla jumped and a smile twitched across Laura’s face as Carmilla’s eyes went wide as she suddenly realized the gaggle of children that surrounded her. Her face flickered through emotions too fast for Laura to catch, head bobbing slightly as she tried to keep with all the questions the kids were throwing her way. 

“How’d you do that?”

“If you’re an elf where’s your hat? Everyone else has a hat, are you a special elf?”

“Can I see? I can’t see. Johnny’s blocking me and I can’t see.”

“Can I try?”

“Laura said that the reindeer just had a baby but Mr Kirsch said that we can’t see them and I want to see them. Will you take me to see them?”

Carmilla’s mouth opened and closed again. Head coming up to wildly search the room, train still loosely clenched in her hand. Finally, her eyes met Laura’s and Laura tried very hard to ignore the fact that this was the first time Carmilla had been the one to seek out contact. 

Then Carmilla’s eyebrow went up and Laura realized that her mouth was still open. 

She snapped it closed, blushing. 

In the time it had taken for Carmilla to find her, one of the kids had managed to finagle his way up onto her stool and launched himself forward to dive into Carmilla’s arms. She grunted, catching him. He immediately latched his arms around her neck and started babbling away. She stared down at him. 

Then her gaze fled back to Laura. Eyes wide. Begging.

Laura couldn’t help it. She giggled. 

The big bad, snarky partner taken down by a group of 6 year olds. 

Then she stepped forward, navigating her way through the kids to stand by Carmilla’s side and whisk the boy from her arms and onto Laura’s hip. Taking a brief moment to eye the train Carmilla was working on. 

The boy pouted and reached out for her again but the relief in Carmilla’s shoulders once the boy was out of her arms meant that Laura wasn’t giving in and letting the kid jump her again.

So she turned to the kids and said, “See guys, this is where I’m working when I’m not with you! Making lots of trains to go under your trees when the big guy comes around on Christmas. But I don’t do it alone, us elves don’t do well alone, too much Christmas spirit which runs on family and friends and togetherness. So I make the trains with my friend Carm here.” 

Carmilla stiffened slightly beside her and Laura fought down the small bout of panic that using the word friend had been a tad too forward when she and Carmilla were ‘less chilly’ at best. Or the nickname

Still, Laura pressed on and leaned forward into a fake whisper, “Don’t tell her this secret okay?” the kids ate it up, leaning in as Laura spoke, “I think that Carmilla actually makes the best trains and they’re so good and she’s secretly in love with Christmas. But if we tell her that then she might get a big head.” She winked and the kids giggled. 

When she straightened back up, Laura almost thought there was a blush on Carmilla’s face. 

“But,” Laura said, “it’s busy season for us and I’m sure Carm wants to get back to work so we’re going to have to keep moving. Maybe we can watch one of the robots get made instead.”

The kids immediately expressed their distress over this idea asking to stay with the ‘cool train elf’ but Laura was firm in not bothering Carmilla, slowly herding them away. 

Herding them until Carmilla slowly said, “they can stay. If you want.”

Their little eyes lit up like Christmas lights and Laura spun in tandem with them to face Carmilla again. 

Carmilla who was waiting for her gaze. 

“You sure?” Laura asked. 

Carmilla shrugged, fiddled with the train, and then let out a smirk, “I don’t know. Someone said something about a baby reindeer and I’d love to hear that story.” There was a challenge in her eyes, “I think one of the other elves said something about this year’s reindeer games?”

Seven sets of tiny eyes shifted to Laura. 

She barely noticed, frowning at Carmilla over her own smile. Then she pranced back to the station and plopped down on the edge of the table, gesturing for Carmilla to sit back on her stool. Carmilla paused then dragged the stool over so that when she finally sat, her arm brushed up against Laura with every pass. She didn’t look up but Laura still caught the smile when Laura shuffled closer. Not constant contact but touches coming and going. on and off. 

The kids gathered around them, sprawling over the floor as Carmilla started to carve and Laura started to weave her tale of the 109th annual reindeer games. She told it for the kids but she’d be lying if the small curl of Carmilla’s lips when she got to a particularly engrossing segment of the made-up-on-the-spot story wasn’t a great incentive. 

Forty five minutes later, Lophii had an older brother named Phillip, Dancer had a sinus infection, Rudolph had a boyfriend, and Carmilla had a finished train. 

Which she promptly shoved at one of the kids with a harsh, “here.”

Laura covered it with an “enjoy!” and a hug. 

He grinned as Kirsch whisked them all away. Kirsch’s face as wide as any of the kids as he gave them a big thumbs up over the kids heads. 

Which just left Laura and Carmilla. Laura still perched on the table with her legs softly swinging as Carmilla sat beside her, tools on the table as though she’d never picked them up. But she had. The small curls of wood lying between them the only reminder Laura had. They said nothing but Carmilla’s hands were still as Laura’s head swam with questions. Biting her lip to keep them from spilling out. 

Not sure what she’d do with answers. 

Especially the biggest, why now? Surely, nothing to do with her. Even if, maybe, she wanted it to be. 

So she didn’t look at Carmilla and she didn’t ask any questions. Instead Laura simply said something that felt true, “The train was perfect.”

There was silence. 

Which of course meant Laura had to panic,”I really mean it Carm. I didn’t even know you could carve like that and you did it so fast and that was just incredible. I mean, I’m really sorry that bothered you because you didn’t look too happy to have all those kids but they really seemed to like you and that boy was so happy with his train and I hope my stories didn’t bother you but the train was just really good. Like really really good. And thanks for helping and not telling them that Krampus was going to steal them or something. Not that you’d do that! I just. You know. It’s just that -”

Laura’s words died as a hand landed on her leg, unraveled sleeve coming into view. Carmilla’s hand stayed put, a light constant pressure warming her skin.

“I could give you a few pointers,” Carmilla said, “if you wanted. On how to make trains.”

Laura swallowed. Hard. “Yes. Please.”

The hand pressed harder for a moment then disappeared and Laura tried not to feel something like loss. So she stayed where she was. Perched on the table. Feet kicking the air. Hoping Carmilla would say something else.

Eventually she was rewarded, “So,” Carmilla’s sarcastic drawl was back, “Rudolph is gay, eh?”

Laura threw her hands in the air, “That red nose? You know it.” Then she grinned and matched Carmilla’s tone, “So, you don’t have Christmas spirit, eh?”

“Not a drop.” Carmilla said.

Quicker than a flash, Laura grabbed the hat off her own head and jammed it on Carmilla’s. For a moment, Carmilla looked shocked then her face descended into a scowl. Laura couldn’t help it. the red suit. The green hat atop mussed hair from Laura’s attack. The petulant grin. 

She got a really bad case of the giggles. 

It only grew when Carmilla tried to shake her head while scowling and the little Christmas bell started jingling. 

But even over her own giggle and the jingle, the eventually soft sound of Carmilla’s chuckle sounded the most like Christmas. 

Like the unheard sound of a wooden Christmas train.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy New Year cupcakes. It's been a heck of a year and a large portion of that is due to the sheer amazing kindness of this fandom. So thank you. As always, any comments, kudos or [tumblr stop ins](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/) are extremely appreciated. 
> 
> May your 2016 be full of the kind of people who would keep your Christmas tree from flying out the back of your trunk.  
> And may you all, stay stupendous. <3 Aria


End file.
